


of this alone i am sure, my God is love (and so are you)

by kanao



Series: who shall i choose to worship? [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Church Sex, Friends With Benefits, Kunimi POV, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Time Skip, Smoking, church camps, kageyama pov, worship leader kunimi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:40:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25221031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanao/pseuds/kanao
Summary: The same voice that sings a praise to holy God now sings a praise to the unholy fulfilment of desire.(alt title: kunimi and kageyama engage in unholy activities coupled with unholy thoughts during a rather holy youth church camp)
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Kunimi Akira
Series: who shall i choose to worship? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827223
Comments: 17
Kudos: 67





	of this alone i am sure, my God is love (and so are you)

**Author's Note:**

> ITS HERE! [ vibrates ] i don't have much to say except for the fact that yes, this is the fic i've been screaming about on twt while writing. i cannot write porn for shit so im sorry... just enjoy the attempt at language i guess :]
> 
> dedicated to all my knkg whores & close gcs (osgc and DRRAGGGONN) i love you all <3
> 
> enjoy!

**_Song of Solomon 4:9  
_ ** _ You have captured my heart, my treasure, my bride. You hold it hostage with one glance of your eyes, with a single jewel of your necklace. _

Kunimi Akira is the person that Tobio Kageyama thinks of when they did a bible study of Song of Solomon in Sunday school. As the class would go into a kind of uproar in the seemingly cheesier lines, with one or two pointing to the potential couples within a class, Tobio sits next to Kunimi Akira at the back, both of them not saying a word.

“This is my favourite book in the bible, I’d say,” Kunimi tells Tobio in a hushed tone and the latter looks at him. Kunimi Akira is breathtaking — breathtaking in a way that Tobio could dedicate a different kind of worship song to Kunimi for him to realise that this wasn’t normal for him. For  _ them.  _ Tobio doesn’t ask why. 

Tobio reads the fourth chapter, ninth verse of Song of Solomon that night and highlights it. This verse will be the ache in his heart that doesn’t long to be cured.

Slowly, the baby blue highlights increase in Tobio’s bible. More and more songs begin reminding Tobio of Kunimi Akira. And slowly, he begins to resent the feeling in his heart. But he realises, the more he resents, the more it grows. Like a flower, it longs to bloom when Kunimi Akira stands up and reads the verses. Or when he chooses to partner up with Tobio during a three-legged race during church sports day.

It’s during their first youth church camp they decide to attend together that Tobio catches a glimpse of the kind of dream Kunimi holds within the caverns of his soul. Arms around them raised, hearts on fire abandoned before the altar.  _ Elohim  _ is sung, the worship leader’s arm standing tall and proud before who he worships. 

“I wish to stand there one day and worship like him,” it’s a chorus of singing all around them, but all falling hushed before silence envelopes them as Kunimi Akira speaks. It’s a holy sound, and Tobio wants to hold onto the intangible. 

So he chooses to hold the tangible instead. _God is patient, God is kind._ Tobio’s rough, rugged fingers brushing against Kunimi’s soft and delicate ones. _He does not envy, He does not boast._ Slotting them together, Tobio grips onto Kunimi’s hand. _His ways are higher than my own, His thoughts consume the great unknown._ He looks over to see the latter glance at their hands, before looking back up and lips curving upwards. _Of this alone I am sure — My God is love._

They were both the only ones in the dimly lit auditorium who weren’t raising their hands. But Tobio feels like he’s on a new kind of spiritual high. To him, his hands were already home. Heart already found in the comfort of a boy, and not in the Son. 

**John 4:24  
** _God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth._

Tobio Kageyama grows over the years, and he feels a different kind of privilege seeing Kunimi Akira do the same beside him. Tobio doesn’t feel much of a pride when he manages to set a successful spike for Hinata Shouyou, or when he returns a dump set from the other side of the court, causing an uproar to resonate from the ceiling vault of the stadium to the ground he sets his feet upon.

He feels a sense of pride knowing that he was able to witness the lines upon Kunimi Akira’s face deepen with each passing year — he will be more handsome still, as if his soul shines through his skin. 

No one feature makes Kunimi Akira so handsome, though his eyes come close. People often speak of the colour of eyes that accentuate the beauty of one, but his would be beautiful in any shade. From them comes an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness. Perhaps this is what is meant by a boy in its full form — not one of weakness or trite politeness, but one of great spirit. 

What he is, what is beautiful about him, comes from deep within; it makes Tobio want to feel how his lips move in a kiss, how his mouth tastes after a smoke of Cohiba, how his hands follow the curves of his body. How the voice that sings a praise to God sings a pleasured melody into the ear. 

Kunimi Akira grew so well. The flower in his heart only continues to bloom. Exchanging greetings with those around them before turning to each other and giggling when they shake hands with one another doesn’t change eight years later. 

“Tobio Kageyama,” Kunimi’s Sunday morning voice is hoarse and raspy, and Tobio feels like he’d surrender his soul right there for a completely different reason. “Kunimi Akira,” he replies as he grips their hands tighter. Same hands that were held that night in youth camp. 

It’s youth camp once again, but here they were instead of young saplings — grown, mature boys in full bloom, namely Kunimi Akira and Tobio Kageyama — sparkling eyes looking a little more dim and dull, but with a better understanding of the manner of the revolution of the world surrounding them.

It has been awhile since they have attended youth camp together, and now they were back  _ together —  _ as adult mentors. Tobio wasn’t really keen at first, and Kunimi didn’t even have to try convincing Tobio to join him. Twinkling eyes that looked like that of a child — Kunimi’s eyes were droopy, but the little glimpse of a future before him still shone more brilliantly than any night star.

Youth camp meant three nights with Kunimi Akira. Tobio didn’t know what to expect, really. It was very different from youth camp attended as children. Now they were grown-ups, they had to put the children before themselves. 

“I’m going to be singing for evening worship,” Kunimi wears his lanyard that made a bold declaration:  _ Adult Mentor.  _ Tobio wears his own and looks at Kunimi. “Are you nervous?”

Kunimi chuckles under his breath and leans his back against the wall. “I’d be lying if I said I weren’t,” Kunimi confesses, and he presses his lips together, “But I hope you’ll look forward to it.”

At that, Tobio’s facial canvas is painted a warm shade of red. “I will, Akira.”

Tobio wasn’t really a boy of frequent smiles. Which is probably why being in the presence of Kunimi Akira made his cheeks hurt. From Kunimi high-fiving a jumping child, to him throwing a squealing one over his shoulders while laughing heartily, and even the simple gesture of him ruffling a proud child’s hair to complement them made Tobio’s lips curve in the direction that touches the sun.

“Tobio-sensei!” Tobio looks down and sees little Takeru holding a water balloon in his hand. “Who should I throw this at?” Tobio crutches to his level and puts a tender arm on his shoulder. He doesn’t have to scan much of the area to see Kunimi and another kid, Haru, hand-in-hand, with water balloons in their free ones. 

“How about there?” Tobio points over at them as they look around as well to find a potential target. Takeru’s eyes light up instantaneously with excitement, and Tobio assists him in swinging his arm to aim at them properly. Tobio picks up a balloon himself, and counts down with Takeru as they both throw their balloons at the same time.

Both of them hit Kunimi and Haru spot-on, and they both immediately turn around. They catch a glimpse of Tobio and Takeru giggling away. Haru chases after a screeching Takeru, and Kunimi does as Tobio. Tobio doesn’t want to get too far away though — all for the sake of hearing Kunimi’s laughter at a closer range. 

His laughter was so free and pure, so childish despite his adult years. It came to Tobio’s ears as a tickle and bounce — and only a rocky heart could do anything but join in such generous mirth. His laughter was the summer rain and birdsong too, and every time Tobio heard it, whether it was when he was eleven or twenty-one, no matter the weather, the sun brightened. It was as if his sound lifted a veil from the eye and allowed him to see the world more clearly. 

Tobio feels a wet collision against his face, and then a fit of child-like giggles. Tobio joins in the laughter, and when it eventually dies down with the exception of hiccups of small ones, Kunimi steps in closer to Tobio. “Your face is still so wet,  _ Tobio-sensei _ ,” warm hands cup cold cheeks, and they immediately begin to burn.

There’s a hint of mischief in Kunimi’s eyes, and Tobio feels his throat dry alongside his head beginning in its ascent.  _ Tobio-sensei? Kunimi cupping his face in front of a bunch of middle schoolers?  _ Oh god.  _ Oh god.  _

“How did your face go from being so cold from the water to so warm when I’m holding your face?” Tobio knows Kunimi is teasing him now. He just knows that in that glimpse of rougery in those pretty eyes of his.

Tobio scoffs and turns away. He hears Kunimi sniggering from the back. “I’ll catch you later, Tobio-sensei.”  _ Oh god.  _

Merry hearts and messy selves soon gather for their activity of watching the sunset together. Tobio sits the last child in his group down and makes his way to the back where the other adult mentors stood by watching as well. 

“Tobio,” he hears a familiar voice calling out to him, and Kunimi Akira gestures for him to come over. He probably had much more fun than the children, for he was soaked from head to toe. Tobio brings his haversack to the front and pulls out as a shirt and a towel from it as he approaches him.

“You’re drenched,” Tobio tells him, throwing him his stuff, “go and change.” 

Kunimi chuckles as he looks down at the  _ Schweiden Adlers  _ shirt staring back at him. Looking back at Tobio, he bites his lip, “your good luck charm for me to sing well tonight?” Tobio shrugs. Kunimi smiles. Tobio’s chest tightens. “Thanks, I’ll take it.”

As Kunimi takes his leave, Tobio’s mind wanders to the inexperienced yet inevitable thoughts that begin to cloud his mind. Tobio’s larger jersey draped over Kunimi’s smaller frame so that his shoulder blades would peek. He makes a silent prayer for forgiveness.

He hears somebody call out his name and Tobio recognizes the voice. He squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping up his repentance prayer and looks at Kunimi — and truly, any kind of attempt at penitence proves futile. 

Kunimi continues to dry his hair with the towel, his free hand on his phone. “Is that your song lyrics?” Tobio asks, desperately wanting to tear his eyes off the boy. “Yeah, I’m actually nervous.”

The children begin to chorus in wonder, and both Tobio and Kunimi look ahead. The sun set in the sky as fresh colours brushed upon God’s living canvas of creation, as if those rays were destined to create a great work of art — one given to those open to capturing simple moments in the soul.

Tobio’s spirit soars at the sight of the spread into largress into a grateful sky, as rich hues of red blended with oranges, purples and crimsons come together and transports him into a timeless existence, as if ready to be a protective blanket for him into a night of new dreams.

Kunimi stands so still, eyes following the descent of the galactic center into the horizon. He watches as the children do, with that look of love and awe. His eyes stay with the sun, the rays capturing his mind in the most calming of ways, the same way soft waves on the beach do. It is as if he is in love with nature, with life itself — and at that moment, Tobio prays that life nurtures that sense in him, keeps him as whole as he was born.

And suddenly they are back to being eleven — Tobio finds a similar kind of comfort in the way his fingers slowly brush against Kunimi’s once more. But things move differently this time, as Kunimi slips his fingers between Tobio’s and grips onto the larger hand first.

Tobio shudders from the touch, and Kunimi takes a step closer to his side. He feels a soft head lean against his shoulder, a mesmerised sigh escaping from him. The gentle touches that reassured Tobio wasn’t alone in this lifetime. The Creator of the billion skies calls Kunimi Akira by name, and Tobio does so as well.

“Kunimi-kun!” someone calls from behind them, and Kunimi turns around, not letting go of Tobio’s hand (to the latter’s much pleasant surprise). “Let’s prep for evening worship,” Kindaichi tells him, and Kunimi ‘ah’s, nodding.

“I’ll be right over,” Kunimi replies, picking up his bag from the ground. As he turns around to leave, he feels a tighter grip on his hand, a small tug telling him to  _ stay. Don’t go.  _

“You’ll do great,” Tobio says instead, and Kunimi flashes him a grateful smile. Fingers reluctantly slip from the touch of comfort like the feeling of waking up from a really good dream that you never want to get up from and let reality sink in.  _ All in a dream.  _

“Thanks, Tobio.”  _ And just like that, the lines between fiction and reality are blurred. _

**_1 Corinthians 13:4–8  
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails._ **

The lights dim and Tobio stands at the back of the auditorium, his back against the wall. The sound of home introduces himself and eyes of comfort meet Tobio’s. The latter smiles, showing Kunimi a small thumbs up. A small nod, shared only between the both of them (and of who He worships). 

Everybody seems to disappear the moment Kunimi opens his mouth to sing. _God is patient, God is kind._ The instruments, the backup vocalists, the congregation are all silent in Tobio’s ears. _He does not envy, He does not boast._ A hand is raised to his mouth as he doesn’t even think of the words he has to say. _His ways are higher than my own, His thoughts consume the great unknown._ Hands being held. Lips being pressed. Bodies together. _Of this alone I am sure — My God is love._

Kunimi Akira’s voice was the praise and promise of tomorrow. Tobio silently knew that in heaven, the angels rejoiced for the music made unto them, for the gift that Kunimi Akira used to glorify. Tobio wants to sing a song too, but for Kunimi Akira.

_ He knew. He remembered.  _ It was no coincidence that Kunimi chose that song to sing. That same song that Tobio reaches out for his hand and holds it in his, the wave of solace. 

Tobio feels a small body brush past him, and his eyes divert to see little Haru running out of the auditorium. Tobio turns and follows him, and as he watches the younger boy take flight, and Tobio begins to run after him. Until the voice of Kunimi Akira drowns in the silence.

Little Haru stops at the railing and crouches down to his knees. Tobio slowly comes from behind as he catches his breath. “Haru,” Tobio says as he sits at the smaller boy’s level. “What’s wrong?”

The smaller boy sniffles and rubs his eyes. “Tobio-sensei,” he sits down as well, “I want to sing like Akira-sensei one day.”

And just like that, Tobio is moved. He sees Kunimi Akira in the same eleven-year-old. The starry night above them sat comfortably. There were lighter patches, clusters of faint and bold light, the constellations altered according to the time of the year. These were the same stars that greeted the ancients, the same ones that were there when Kunimi Akira made the same wish that night, the same ones that would be there in millions of years when both Tobio and Akira were just mere inhabitants of a black hole in the infinite galaxy.

“I’m sure you can,” Tobio puts his arm around little Haru’s shoulder and hugs him close to him. “I’ll be there when you sing on that stage one day, Haru.”

“I’ll be there, too, Haru,” a voice from behind them says, and they both turn around. “Akira-sensei!” Little Haru wiggles from Tobio’s grip and runs into Kunimi’s open arms, as the older boy plants a soft kiss on the younger’s head.

“You get going first, little boy,” Kunimi presses his finger on little Haru’s nose, earning a small giggle. “I’ll get you on that stage one day.” Little Haru nods and runs from the both of them. Tobio and Kunimi watch as his silhouette gets smaller with the distance, until he disappears into the comforting light of the auditorium.

Kunimi turns back to Tobio and walks towards him, before taking a seat next to him, just as little Haru did. Tobio smiles. “What are you smiling at?” Kunimi asks, admiring the dark velvet canvas pelted with white. Tobio feels like he witnessed the growth of a child from years to mere minutes.

“You’re pretty, Kunimi.” The words slip out faster than he can even process them. At that, Kunimi immediately turns to Tobio. There’s a silence, before a coy smile appears on Kunimi’s face.

“I’m going to ask you a question, Tobio.” Kunimi inches closer, and Tobio’s breath hitches for a second. The voice that follows is raspy and seductive. “Even though I know your answer.”

“Then why are you asking?” Tobio replies, and Kunimi smirks. “Then I won’t ask. I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Kunimi presses a hand on Tobio’s cheek. His fingers are thin yet full. 

“Kiss you.”

The necessary special effects are not in Tobio Kageyama’s possession as he feels the mouth he has been wanting to taste for as long as his heart desires pressed against his. But what he’d like for you to imagine is Kunimi Akira’s pale face coming close to his, his hanging eyelids closing, his wet lips brushing against Tobio’s, and all other sounds of the world going silent — the rustling of Tobio’s jersey on Kunimi, the passing cars, the airplane outside making an exclamation mark in the sky — all silent, as Kunimi presses his mouth against Tobio’s.

And then, somewhere below this, his heart reacts. Not a thump exactly. Not even a leap. But a kind of wish, like a frog kicking off from a muddy bank. His heart, that amphibian, moving that movement between two elements: one, excitement; the other, fear. He tries to pay attention. He tries to hold up his end of things.

Resistance falls crumbling down on them as Kunimi slowly pulls away and lets his mouth do the talking going down. “Akira,” Tobio’s voice is raspy and sharp, and Kunimi hums into the pressing of teeth and tongue. “Somebody is going to see us.”

Kunimi pulls away and looks over Tobio, eyes burning with a passion and desire Tobio never thinks he’d look into. “Then take me wherever you want to, Tobio- _ sensei _ ,” the words drip like honey, and Tobio’s eyes ignite with a similar kind of fire.

Tobio wants it to happen slower. The way their lips are connected again, the way Tobio wraps his arms around Kunimi’s legs and brings their bodies closer as the sound of tongue and teeth fill the void. The sense of urgency to explore just grows more, and soon they’re in a handicapped toilet, both of them not hesitating to remove whatever cloth was left of them.   


In the midst of the heaty daze he is in, Tobio think he hears Kunimi mumbling:  _ You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do this, Tobio.  _

But he thinks it may just be an illusion in the trance he was in. If he could choose, he wouldn’t ever want to wake up from it. 

As a throaty noise escapes from Kunimi’s lips and tears fill his eyes, Tobio can’t help but grin. “Why are you laughing, you sly fuck?” Kunimi snarls.  _ The same voice that sings a praise to holy God now sings a praise to the unholy fulfilment of desire. _

Tobio doesn’t answer.

**Song of Solomon 1:2  
** _Kiss me and kiss me again, for your love is sweeter than wine._

It happens a second time. Then a third. 

It was if they just couldn’t get enough of each other. As if their bodies and mouths were connected with a red string that longed to never be cut off. It starts out with coy glances (mostly demonstrated by Kunimi), and then thigh caressing under the tables. 

Tobio's most honourable mention: Kunimi passes around the communion bread. _Body of Christ, broken for you,_ he whispers with a smile on his face as he presses the biscuit against the palm of each repenter. He stops for awhile at Tobio, before leaning in to his ear, voice oozing with lust — "this won't be the only thing you'll be eating tonight, Kageyama Tobio."

Tobio feels as if even if he were to take a lifetime of communion, it wouldn't be able to cover up his sin. _Their_ sins.

The way they ignore the sores and cover the purple and blue butterflies painted on their necks. The way the children ask them why they disappear for so long. 

Tobio tries to be indifferent. It doesn’t do to let someone with an ego like Kunimi Akira’s know how much power he has. They’re on the bench at the back of the sanctuary where the muffled voice of the pastor speaks through the closed walls. 

Every single time feels like a whole new experience. The way Kunimi’s body feels on his, the way it rocks back and forth, the way it grows limp on top of his in submission. Tobio thinks he hears a heavenly chorus when Kunimi Akira sings, but he feels a closer yet further touch of a new kind of heaven when he hears Kunimi Akira chanting his name when they are fucking.

Heavy breathing comes to a gradual, steady rhythm. Kunimi gets off from the bench and takes a few steps before lying down on the grass patch, eyes looking to God’s painting tonight. Today, under a sky of perfect midnight velvet, under stars so brilliant they drew the eyes heaven bound.  _ And as you speak, a hundred billion galaxies were born  _ plays softly in Kunimi’s mind. As the light twinkled and the unheard music played, Tobio’s steps fell lightly, before his body is lying next to Kunimi as well.

“Tobio,” his voice is no longer filled with desire or passion. It’s just a gentle, tender,  _ Tobio.  _ He hums. “You can call me Akira, you know.”

“Alright,” Tobio says, “Akira.” Kunimi giggles softly at that, eyes circling around the stars to find a potential constellation.  _ He wants to hear it a million times over.  _

“I never actually asked you this,” Kunimi says, “are you still planning to pursue Volleyball?”

Tobio chuckles softly. Kunimi doesn’t know why. “Yeah, I am. I’m actually going to the Rio Olympics.”

“Really? When is that? When are you leaving?” A beat.

“Soon.” Kunimi doesn’t ask anymore. Tobio doesn’t say anything either — doesn’t ask about his future, or where he was going, anything like that. Kunimi thinks he’s in the moment-kind-of-thing for Kageyama Tobio. 

Even in the velvet dark there is a light of the stars, perhaps a promise that even when we yearn for the light of the sun there will be those stars to bring hope of the dawn. It is always the light we crave, for without it what is our world?

Kunimi thinks about what would become of creatures of the night forever to scuttle and hide from predators, imagined or real? Either way we seek the light, the chance to stand up and be strong, to see beauty and be beautiful. For the ability to see others and ourselves, to see nature and her stunning variation — a gift.

Light or not, Kunimi yearns to constantly see the beauty and pride that lies within Kageyama Tobio. 

**Hebrews 13:5  
** _I will never leave you or forsake you._

There’s an unspoken tension and silence that envelops Tobio Kageyama and Kunimi Akira after that. They both don’t know why it happens, and  _ how  _ it even happened. 

But Tobio still chooses to stand himself next to Kunimi on the final night of worship during the altar call. Chorus of earnest prayers and tears shed, but all Kunimi and Tobio do is stand still.

“Do you want to go outside?” Kunimi asks Tobio, and he nods. They slowly make their exit and walk for awhile in the heavily quiet night air, before stopping at the rails, where they both lean over.

Kunimi digs a hand inside his jacket and fishes out a small box. Tobio looks over to see the same mouth begging for more, the same mouth pressing flowers in bloom on the chest, the same mouth kissing Tobio — the same mouth picking up a stick from the box, illuminated by a glow.

Kunimi breathes out an exhale of smoke and hands the box to Tobio. “Want one?” Tobio takes it hesitantly, clearly thinking twice. 

Kunimi wants to share the small glow of intimacy with Tobio. He doesn’t — he doesn’t know why he watches helplessly as Tobio ignites it from his lighter instead. 

“This isn’t good for your volleyball,” he says instead, and Tobio chuckles, the stick hanging from the grip of his teeth as he hands the box and lighter over to its owner. 

“And this isn’t good for your singing,” he says, as the grey fog between them gets more prominent. They both laugh. The air between them is lighter despite the smoke.

“And we shouldn’t be doing this in church compounds,” Kunimi jokes further, before adding, “and us fucking as well.” Hearty laughter, then silence once again. Tobio’s laughter puts all church choirs that gather every Sunday to shame. 

“Do you know what it feels like to be in love, Kunimi?” Tobio asks as he watches the stick decrease in its length.  _ Yes, Tobio. I know exactly what it feels like. It feels like this, when I’m outside here in the cool winter air and smoking a stick with you. _

“I don’t really think what being in love is defined as,” he lies instead. Tobio nods his head.  _ It’s really so hard to know what’s behind that God-sculpted face of yours.  _

“How about you, Tobio?” Kunimi asks, and the former shrugs. “I don’t really know either.” 

_ It’s just a matter of waiting. Waiting till somebody has the courage to speak up first. Waiting until somebody gets tired.  _

It’s a very different courage — Kunimi thinks — from going up on stage and worshipping in front of hundreds of people. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever have it to tell Kageyama Tobio. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever have it  _ for  _ Kageyama Tobio.

Blame it on the smoke that fogs their vision progressively, but Kunimi Akira and Kageyama Tobio can’t see that they are both certainly in love. 

**1 Samuel 12:23-24  
** _I will certainly not sin against the Lord by ending my prayers for you._

“Iwaizumi-san,” Kunimi calls out, and Iwaizumi turns around from looking at his phone. “Have you seen Kageyama?”   


Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. “Tobio?” Kunimi nods. “You must have forgotten, Kunimi.”

_ I never lived a moment of my life, before meeting you. You can't be separated from me! This heart was angry when I was without you. And that today I met you once more, this heart says that it is colored in your colors! I am yours. Be mine. Nothing in me is mine; it's all yours. I've fallen in your charm; make me yours. This unusual feeling- it aches my heart, sweetheart. How long? I can't wait! _

“Forgotten what?” Kunimi feels like his world was already beginning to cave in. Had he really forgotten? No, no way —

“He’s left for Rio, Kunimi.”

_ And when your heart came across mine in its path, every beat was celebrated, by your grace. I have risen to meet you; hidden in your heart. The moment you are with me- I rejoice in life in that mini-second. Getting you was all I wanted; I have no more wishes. Christ has done his deeds for me! I am made from you, and I am needless without you. Be with me; make me yours. This feeling, that I can't explain; I will just be brave enough to admit that I'm falling for you. _

Kunimi holds his head as if it would keep it from spinning. He finds himself walking aimlessly till he finds himself seated on a bench (there is probably too much running in his head for him to realise that he and Tobio made love on that fateful piece of wood).

He picks up his phone, fingers scrambling on the search bar. He doesn’t manage to catch himself before he started to cry, for the tears were already pelting onto the screen before him. He (reluctantly) reads. 

**The 2016 Summer Olympics, officially known as the Games of the XXXI Olympiad and commonly known as Rio 2016, is an international multi-sport event to be held from 5 to 21 August 2016 in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.**

The date on the top of his phone reads 4 August, as if it was mocking him. 

“Fucking dumbass,” Kunimi cusses under his breath, throwing his phone next to him and burying his heads in his knees — the tears of frustration, anger and questions running in his head. The wait was over.

Kunimi’s phone rings, and he swears under his breath, thinking it was one of the other adult mentors calling him to return for the church closing. It isn’t.

_ From: Kageyama Tobio  
_ _ i’m sorry that i left without telling you. _ _  
_ _ i’m a coward for not saying it. _ _  
_ _ you may hate me, but kunimi akira,  
_ _ i am and have always been in love with you.  
_ _ perhaps when i come back, i’ll have the courage to say it to you face-to-face. _

Kunimi chokes on his tears as he types his reply. 

_ From: Kunimi Akira  
_ _ fucking dumbass.  
_ _ i’ll be waiting, tobio.  _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> posting this on a sunday... [ head in hands ] ayo who else going to hell tonight 
> 
> the last part in italics when kunimi and iwaizumi converse is from an extremely lovely devotional piece i read. i have unfortuantely lost it but i only found that part that deeply resonated within me in my notes so YOINK! i will definitely link it here if i can find it :D
> 
> kudos and comments and nice words in general very very much appreciated!!! also my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/himekawa) and [twt](https://twitter.com/bokauka) thank you so much for reading once again! i hope you liked that ^______^ love you!
> 
> [ edit: im also struggling to help fund my uni fees alongside my parents.. a small amount goes a long way :(( this is my [kofi!](https://ko-fi.com/seungyoun) ]


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